Chapter Twenty-Seven- The Art Room
When someone draws you
1. It means you're in their heart. It means you're in their head.
2. Terrifying, when a kidnapper draws their captive.
I could hear the faint chattering of Tyson and the others just down the hallway. Both he, Uzair and the twins knew that I had stolen his keys. I couldn't let him find out from them first.
I had to go to the art closet. If I had a chance, I could slip it between some paintings or something.
Yeah, Tyson wouldn't be able to find them. But I didn't fucking care.
He would think he dropped them when drunk. I hoped-?
The twins would tell him anything in order to keep him away from them. They would definitely screw me over. They were (relatively) sane, but they cared less about me than they did each other.
Would Uzair? I don't know. Maybe.
I finally found the closet-sized art closet and practically dove inside. I studied the room, and it felt far too familiar.
Brown hooks protruded from the walls. Multiple robes hung from them, all antique and eloquent. A desk stood in the corner, white as a nightgown for a Donor. Cartons of pens and sketchpads littered its surface. The walls were painted a deep maroon, like blood.
Just like last time, as I stared upwards, my stomach curdled. On all four walls, thousands of tiny pictures, messy sketches hung. Frame after frame was decorated with ribbons and precious jewels. Each one was of someone Tyson knew from his past. Descriptions were scribbled on each sketch, in an insane amount of languages.
I was skittish like a rabbit. I pulled the key out of my bra, tucking it behind some dusty boxes. Then I closed my eyes and slammed the door shut, trying to breathe.
In and out. In and out.
Sasha was talking to Tyson. I could focus and get out of here.
I should already be out of here. But I was breathing so hard. My legs were trembling so hard, I didn't know if I could walk. I spent at least half an hour there, curled on the floor, trying to control my breaths.
That noise pushed me out of my reverie. Someone knew I was in here. I wrenched my arms closer around myself.
Was it Hayden? Uzair? Nam Ha?
"Who's there?" I hissed.
"Laurie, lovely, let me in."
Only one man called me lovely. Well- he was hardly a man.
My pulse turned to ice. For once, the vampire was requesting entry.
Tyson creaked the door open, staring at me on his fancy carpet in the middle of the room. His expression was catlike and skeletal. His hair was tied back, which gave his face an angular glare, only succeeding on making him even more intimidating.
He inspected me, like he could tell that I was just having an anxiety attack. Oh, fuck, was it that obvious?
I bit my lip, wishing that my meds could fix all my problems. Tyson stepped inside and shut the door. I stared at his boots, not daring to look upward.
"Sasha is upset," Tyson purred. "She wants her own key, but I can't seem to track down mine. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Tyson laughed. "Liar."
Tyson seemed to stare right through me. My blood was rushing through my ears. Oh, fuck, he could smell it, too. That's how a vampire tracked me down so quickly...
And I was on my period. So that just meant more blood.
He could smell me. From different places. To different places. He could totally smell me.
Fuck, I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe.
"I'm not lying," I lied.
"Uzair said you borrowed my keys," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "So I'd like them back, please."
"I don't know why Uzair would say that," I squeaked, "I-I didn't.... I didn't... I, um..."
My heart was thrumming in my chest. I knew that this keys thing was a simple issue, but his demon eyes were staring right through me. After a few days, I'd gotten used to being away from those eyes.
Slowly, I stood up and knelt down by his art boxes. I reached into my bra, pulled out his key and pushed it into his hand.
He took it, his cold hands clasping around it and tucking it into his pocket. Then he stared like he could see right through me.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Where was Hayden? Sasha? I needed another vampire to shield me, but I was a lamb in the middle of the floor.
Yes, Uzair probably thought that telling Tyson the truth wouldn't hurt. But he was wrong. I'd encountered a sudden bout of weakness, and it would probably kill me.
"What were you doing with my keys?" Tyson asked.
I stared at his skeleton face. "Will you shut up about the fucking keys?"
Tyson smiled, lightly. "I just want to know what you've been up to, Laurie."
I drew out a shaky breath. I wanted him to leave more than anything.
I could hear Tyson's breath. I didn't know why, but he sounded a little anxious too.
"Sorry in advance for this," Tyson muttered, his voice strangely raw.
Before I could even comprehend it, Tyson had closed the space in between us. He was sitting on the carpet. Near me. Below me.
His teeth were in my shoulder and the pain was coursing upwards. It made me cry out the pain and chatter my teeth. As he drank me dry, I saw the worst thing in the world.
Just below his desk was a half-finished sketch. The lips were too pouty to be real. The eyes were too enraged. But it was most definitely, most terrifyingly me.
There was no way out. I was still human. But because of my painting, my life was a nightmare come to life.
He had the drawing. Now he would never forget me.
As he bit me, I just kept staring at the drawing of me. My mind was hissing on repeat. Then, I think I fainted or something.
Damn. Vampire City is unfair.
Hehehe SOOO short chapter. Sorry for being pensive but the stakes are getting higher!
Please consider voting and commenting <3 ILY
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C a p t u r e dVampire
When Laurie Cortez is kidnapped by one of the world's most notorious vampires, she makes a vow to herself: to destroy him. But as he forces his way into her life, one thing is made clear.... For the first time, Laurie has met her match...